The Daredevil eBook

“You couldn’t have been a woman unless
you had received a much better finishing polish before
being sent to bless the earth, Phil, dear,”
said that funny Mademoiselle Mildred Summers, and that
Mr. Phillips Taylor returned the insult by lifting
her off of her feet and gliding her halfway across
the porch verandah in the beginning of one tango dance
to the music that was again to be heard from the hall
within the building.

“Mildred and Phil fight like aborigines, and
their love for combat will lead to matrimony in their
early youth if they are not reconciled to each other
soon,” said lovely Sue as she fitted herself
into my arms for our tango.

“After this dance with you will you lead me
to that Madam Taylor, the friend of my father, beautiful
Sue?” I asked of her. “It makes happy
my heart to see one who loved him.” And
as I spoke, the longing for my father that will ever
be in my heart made a sadness in my voice and a dimness
in my eyes.

“I think everybody loved him just as we are
all beginning to—­to like you, Bobby dear,”
said that sweet girl as she smiled up at me in a way
that sent the dimness in my eyes back to my heart.

“I am very grateful that you like me, lovely
Sue,” I said with great humility. “I
will endeavor to win and deserve more and more of that
liking, until it is with me as if I had been born in
a house near to yours, as is the case with my dear
Buzz and also that funny Mildred.”

“I couldn’t like you any better, Bobby,
if you had torn the hair off of my doll’s head
or broken my slate a dozen times,” she laughed
at me again as we slid together the last slide in
the dance. “Now come over and be introduced
to Mrs. Taylor. You have only a few minutes, for
you and Buzz must both be back at the Capitol at two.
I feel in honor bound to the State to send you both
back on time.” And while she spoke she
led me across the hall of the clubhouse and into a
room full of ladies, who sat at card tables consuming
very beautiful food while also preparing to resume
playing the cards.

CHAPTER XII

THE BEAUTIFUL MADAM WHITWORTH

Sue then made for me many introductions and all of
those lovely grande dames gave to me affectionate
welcomes. Some of them I had encountered at the
dance of the Gouverneur Faulkner and all of them had
smiles for me.

“Why, boy, you are Henry’s very self come
back to us after all these years—­only with
a lot of added deviltry in the way of French beauty,”
said that Madam Taylor, who was very stately, with
white hair and a very young countenance of sweetness.
“The daredevil—­it was like him to
send you back to us as—­as revenge,”
she added with something that almost seemed like anger
under the sweetness of her voice.

“It is what my father always named me, Madam,
the ‘daredevil,’ and will you not accept
me for your cherishing?” I spoke those words
to her from an impulse that I could not understand
but I saw them soothe a hurt in her eyes as she laughed
and kissed my cheek as I raised my head from kissing
her jeweled hand.